A collection of drabbles
by make-mine-a-kiaora
Summary: Rated T for anything that may appear but most entries likely to be K/K plus . Reviews and comments very welcome.
1. Adapt

**_Usual disclaimers apply _**

_"Adapt or die. Huh."_

Jane leans forward in his chair, his expression provocative, smug and smarmy, with more than a hint of downright delight. And the teasing challenge that bubbles underneath. It grabs me like a late night mugger.

Does this man know how darned sexy he is right now?

I blink slowly, trying to force the answering sparkle from my widening eyes.

To deny all, not just the next hand.

Bluffing Patrick Jane. That'll be the day.

He knows. I know he knows. But, so far, he hasn't called me out on it.

What will I do then?


	2. Balance

_**Disclaimer: Usual disclaimer applies**_

Balance.

That perfect state where opposing forces hold each other in check.

My attraction to Lisbon; my fear for her safety.

The need to protect my love through feigned indifference,

Through sleeping with the enemy.

Turning Red John's gift into Red John's downfall.

I worry the ring on my finger.

Vengeance for my loss, atonement for my sins, a vow to those now gone.

* * *

Lisbon is my lighthouse. The course from which I veer.

Her feelings for me run deep;

So does her fear of my rejection.

The point of her equilibrium.

* * *

She is my goal and anchor.


	3. Chance

_**Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies**_

A game of chance.

Hunter and hunted,

Killer and lawmen,

Engaged in a deadly dance.

* * *

Seven suspects.

One CBI.

One team,

Steadfast and committed,

United in pursuit of justice,

Of a world beyond Red John.

* * *

And, at its heart,

A partnership of trust

Of love and loyalty,

Tempered by the heat of betrayal.

Lisbon protects unconditionally.

Jane's fidelity is hard won but absolute.

Together, they face down the darkness.

* * *

The end game is here, they know.

Now it comes down to the details.

Mistakes made, connections inferred.

Luck and skill and judgement.

Love and life on the line.


	4. Desire

**_Usual disclaimer applies_**

She lived for Miranda. Mothered her and led her. Danced and laughed with her.

They swore never to be parted again.

They led separate lives, but stayed close. Till the day Miranda disappeared.

Lorelei called it in. Endured the interviews with Missing Persons. Sweated, stretched on the rack of waiting, hoping and fearing.

And then the world shattered.

She didn't wait for the funeral or the inquest.

Her life and purpose obliterated, she fled.

Until she found _him._

The man she called master.

He gave her meaning, taught her to deny her grief.

She gave him her all.


	5. Effort

**_Usual disclaimer applies._**

Crushing the disc in his palm, Jane fought to hold it together. All the effort of the last few months, hell even the last 10 years, and it came down to this.

Red John was in charge of the board. Controlling the game. If you could call it a game.

People had died. More would follow. The serial killer had sworn vengeance for his queen.

The woman he had fought to turn, even resorting to sex and outright pleading, had given him little in the end.

He had been so very blind to the consequences of his plan.


	6. Fervour

**_Usual disclaimer applies._**

Lisbon lives with fervour. Understated, but strong enough to tear down prison walls.

It drives her. Through the worst ones. The cases that make work-hardened agents vomit and cry.

Her strength?

A simple, sincere and practical faith, based on love, uncluttered by dogma.

A need to take responsibility. To be there.

Compassion for the underdog, the lost and the broken.

An unswerving commitment to justice. To her detriment and death, if needs be.

Loyalty and devotion to her team, her family.

And a relentless need to care. To give unconditionally.

She is my rock. My saviour.

My love.


	7. Gratitude

Gratitude! No, he definitely couldn't let Lisbon know how grateful he was to her.

Not just for the big things – springing him from jail by using her influence over Bosco, punching out Donny Culpepper and enduring another blot on her record and those wonderful anger management classes – but for everything.

For caring. For being his friend and confidant. For taking on a wreck of a man and keeping him afloat in his despair.

He had a very good idea of just how much he owed her.

He hid it behind teasing and banter. Loyal to her till death.


	8. Histrionics

**_Usual disclaimer applies_**

"So, what do we do now?"

Van Pelt glances at Jane, chewing on her lower lip as she hesitates.

"Just go with the flow, Grace, go with the flow."

"But… what do I do?"

"Improvise! Take the initiative."

"How? I don't even know why you dragged me here. What are you doing?"

"Now, van Pelt, no need for histrionics. I'm CEO of a financial concern and you're my PA. We're travelling, mixing business and pleasure, and have come to this fine establishment for lunch."

"Jane! You… SOB!"

"Do you want to catch the killer? If so, let's go."


	9. Irksome

**_Usual disclaimer applies._**

"Jane!"

Lisbon marched towards the SUV, bellowing at her consultant to follow, not waiting to see if he obeyed.

Jane sidled after her, debating whether to act contrite or continue poking at angry bear Lisbon. Catching up with her, he assumed his best 'now, be reasonable' persona, with extra conciliatory tones layered on top.

"Lisbon, really…"

"No Jane. Not this time. He may have been 'irksome' but that is no excuse. We are a professional law enforcement unit and I know you are only a _consultant_ but standards of basic decency still apply."

"But"

"No buts, no excuses."


	10. Jealousy

_**Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies**_

Sitting in his attic, Jane fumed.

Who was this Bob Kirkland? And why was he sniffing round Lisbon like a stray dog looking to cock its leg? He'd appeared from nowhere, without any good reason, whilst Jane had been pre-occupied with Lorelei's escape.

Jane shifted uncomfortably. His plan hadn't succeeded yet but it hadn't failed either. Lorelei would realise he was telling her the truth, and they had both got away with the break-out. Cuts and bruises would heal.

Lorelei. He should focus on Lorelei. So why could he only think of Lisbon?

And the SOB stalking her.


	11. Kryptonite

_I have a vague sense that this may be similar to something someone else has done previously. Unfortunately, I can't remember who or when. Hopefully this take should be sufficiently different though._

**_Disclaimer: usual disclaimers apply._**

Red John walked into the bullpen, carefully unobtrusive, hiding his true purpose.

As expected, the team were out. They'd be away a few hours. He hoped the new crime scene he'd provided for them, including the anonymous tip-off about the body in the lake, would keep them intrigued. Some of the MO was the same, some of it wasn't.

He eyed Jane's couch, but that was visible from the security camera, so he didn't indulge. Discipline and focus were needed now.

Teresa Lisbon was Patrick Jane's Achilles heel. Little did Red John know, together they were his kryptonite.


	12. Lessons

_**Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies**_

Patrick Jane wasn't good with lessons. If he wanted to learn something he would. In some cases, from books. Sometimes talking with key authorities and studying their work. But more often than not, from experience. The 'what happens if' school.

Sure, it could be dangerous. But, with his insight and manipulative skills, he could usually come out ahead. That was part of the thrill of the CBI. Criminals were a more varied and challenging lot than the general public.

And when he couldn't. That's when he let his dear partner take over. Beauty, brawn and skilled in ballistics!


	13. Mistake

**_Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies_**

_Thank you to the guests who have reviewed, who I can't contact personally. I really appreciate you taking the time to comment._

Red John's first mistake was Carter Peake. After that, he took precautions. Eventually he recruited Partridge as his final backstop.

Meticulousness was his religion. But some things can't be controlled for.

He was avenging an insult made by a journalist in Carmel. But, unbeknowns to the killer, he was coming down with the flu. Flu which arrives in sudden, all-consuming sneezes.

He caught the first sneeze in his left palm, then transferred the DNA onto the victim whilst making one of the deeper cuts. He never even realised.

And his tame forensic tech? Out of state on leave.


	14. Normality

**_Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies_**

Lisbon strode into the bullpen, relieved to see her troublesome consultant stretched out on his couch, fast asleep.

She hadn't been sure. Not after the events of the last month. Red John's demise and Jane vanishing immediately after. At least he'd left her a note this time. And text messages several times a day to reassure her.

Yesterday, he'd mentioned he was coming back. But she couldn't be sure until she'd seen him.

A whole month without talking with him. Without hearing his soft, soothing voice.

She hovered, thinking about wakening him. He opened his eyes and smiled.


	15. Offer

_**Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies.**_

"Patrick, good to see you. I thought I might find you here. Though I must say that previously you weren't quite so unconventionally situated. Do you sleep here or is this an inverted reference to a psychiatrist's couch? You're quite the student of human nature, I know."

"Brett," Jane acknowledged, leveraging himself up to a sitting position, "what brings you here?"

"Oh, this and that, you know.

"Mmm."

"Well, a mutual friend, of course."

Jane stood up, looking Stiles straight in the eye. "Go on."

"He wishes to parley. Visualise is neutral ground so I offer to host."


	16. Poison

_**Disclaimer: usual disclaimer applies**_

"He poisoned her."

Jane looks bewildered, disbelieving. He's rubbing the knuckles of his right hand, bruised from hitting the concrete wall. Another potential lead. A link to Red John. Gone.

Lisbon looks over Rebecca's corpse with a practiced eye, battering down the sense of betrayal and the memories of speaking with the woman. She may have been the arm of Red John, and she'd inflicted devastation on Lisbon both personally and professionally, but she didn't deserve this. To be tossed aside in such a brutal, final and casual way by the man she had shown absolute loyalty to.


	17. Quintessential

_**Usual disclaimers apply**_

Rigsby groaned, flicking his empty coffee carton into the trash. "Man, we're getting nowhere."

"I wouldn't say that."

"OK, smart-ass, do you know who it is yet?"

"I'm working on it. Yeah. Maybe."

"OK Jane, I'm all ears. Shoot."

"Well, you could look at the bigger picture. Summarise each of the suspects in one sentence say."

"How?"

"I'll show you.

Lisbon: fearless, feisty, pocket rocket wielding a Glock to deliver justice, with mama bear instincts to protect her brood.

Cho: silent, stoic Special Agent specialising in devastating interrogations and literary appreciation.

Your turn…"

"Nah, man, too clever for me."


	18. Restorative

_**Usual disclaimer applies**_

Jane sinks into the couch in Lisbon's office, weariness showing in the rigidity of his neck and back. Another Red John murder and another three days straight without sleep.

"Here you are."

Lisbon arrives, setting one cup on her desk and offering him the other. He wraps both hands around it and lifts it, inhaling the steam with its warmth and the fragrant aroma of bergamot. Earl Grey. His spirits lift in anticipation of the first sip.

"Tea, best cure-all known to man. "

"You may mock, Lisbon, but actually it is. Reviving. Restorative. And delicious as well."


	19. Stitches

**_Usual disclaimers apply._**

Professional or not, Lisbon couldn't hide the smirk splitting her face. Rigsby laughed openly and even Cho quirked an eyebrow.

Jane stood before them. Immaculate mid-grey jacket and vest. And huge navy jogging pants, held on by the taut drawstring at the waist and elasticated ankles.

So much for leaving his 'go' bag in the attic.

"They're ruined." He held out his suit trousers, with the ripped backside.

"Perhaps you'll learn something from that," Lisbon quipped, but she took them, assessing the damage.

"It's just a seam opened up, Jane. They'll stitch."

"Meh!"

"Don't be such a baby!"


	20. Targets

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

One range.

Two cops. Two targets.

Lisbon dons her ear defenders and steps forward, positioning herself in the perfect spot. She relaxes on the out breath, moving into the moment. Poised. Alert. Perfectly aware.

Cho steps into his booth. No emotion. Nerves of steel. Analytically, he chooses the best line and raises his gun. Perfect concentration and absolute focus.

In the gallery, Rigsby and Jane are watching. Rigsby turns to his companion.

"Bet you 20 bucks that Cho beats Lisbon."

Jane grins, shaking his head.

"Too hot for me, Rigsby. No bet."

The two guns fire in unison.


	21. Unreliable

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

"Sorry, Lisbon. I'm not going to join you."

"You'd best have a damned good reason, Jane."

It's Betsy. She's sick. And I don't know what's wrong yet."

He pats the blue Citroen affectionately.

"Betsy? Oh you mean that unreliable death trap of yours."

"Lisbon! That's just cruel. No need to get jealous now dear."

Lisbon's strangled grunt is loud in his ear.

"And, for the record, Lisbon, Betsy is not unreliable. She's been out of sorts just twice in the ten years you've known me. Can't say that about the two SUVs that you've gone through, can we?"


	22. Victor

**_Usual disclaimer applies._**

_This is set prior to episode 5x16, when Lorelei is captured by Red John._

There can be no victor now, Red John knows.

Patrick Jane, the man he brought low in retribution, proved his value and chose life. Justifying his mentor's decision to spare him and take his family, his distractions, instead.

He'd watched Patrick from afar, before the TV debacle, and wished to collect him and his skills set - a valuable addition to the 'confederacy'.

But Patrick proved resistant to enlightenment. In rejecting the higher path though, he became something exciting. A worthy adversary.

Destroying Lisbon would destroy Jane. But that would be game over and that would never do.


	23. Wonder

_**Usual disclaimer applies**_

The world was full of wonder. Jane stood on the balcony of his CBI attic and watched the night dissolve slowly into day. First that gradual lightening on the horizon from midnight blue to steel grey. And then the colours. Peaches, pinks and yellows, and fire tinged, scattered cumulus clouds.

He thought back over the previous day, working each sense:

Sight – Lisbon's face when he gave her ice cream at the beach.

Hearing – ocean waves.

Touch – sun-warmed sand.

Taste – his bedtime cup of tea.

Smell – cinnamon and vanilla.

As the sun rose, so did the life within him.


	24. X-rays

_**Usual disclaimers apply.**_

"Jane, with me," Cho barked, as they left the crime scene.

Climbing into the SUV, fastening his seatbelt, Jane tried to ignore the hostile gaze which Cho had fixed on him.

"What the hell did you think you were doing out there!"

"Trying to catch a killer."

"Enough. Don't be a smart-ass with me."

"Is this about the case or something else?"

The silence grew between them like thick acrid smoke.

"It's about Lisbon, isn't it? Why she's in the hospital."

Cho grabbed him by the shoulders. "One more word Jane and you'll need X-rays. Lots of them."


	25. You

_**Usual disclaimer applies.**_

_A pair of double drabbles this time._

_You_

You appeared on my doorstep like a beaten puppy –shattered, but determined. You outwitted me without trying, cold reading me effortlessly. You manipulated Hannigan, Minelli and I to the point you joined the team in Hannigan's place. Hot on the scent of your revenge, you towed me along like an out of control Alsatian. Your lack of house training showed in pissing on (off) witnesses and crapping on evidence. You were arrogant, infuriating, irreverent and had no respect for boundaries.

But your enthusiasm and eagerness to please drew me in, not to mention those eyes. You looked at me and saw me. Not as a sister, cop or surrogate mom, but as a whole person. And you gave me acceptance and affection. No-one since my mother had.

You were vulnerable and I needed to protect you. You drove me mad but made me laugh. Whilst child-like and often childish, you mothered me and I let you. I saw your loyalty to family, and the extent you would go to for your own. Along the way, I began to trust you. And, in your warped and individual way, you returned that trust.

You're my best friend. And I love you.

* * *

_You_

When I met you, you were prim, proper and full of authority, tempered with compassion. You tried to brush me off with rules but your empathy wouldn't let you pull the rug. You felt something of my pain and, in return, I let you mother me. Cleaned up. Took an interest. You valued me, even broken. In finding an outlet for my skills, you saved me.

Mother Teresa, the fixer. You never did give up on me. I gave you many reasons but you always took me back. I never expected to care, but you wheedled beneath my defences. Your kindness. Your need to see the best in people. To protect them. Your loyalty to your own, at any and all costs. And your willingness to listen and learn. That all got to me.

So did that fiery temper, my little spitfire. You're so beautiful when you're mad.

You took my relentless ego and manipulation without being phased by it.

I let you see me. As much as I let anyone. You didn't shy away. I learned to trust and share and would defend you with my life. You're my partner and my best friend.

And I love you.


	26. Zebra

_Usual disclaimers apply._

_This completes this alphabetic set of drabbles. I shall miss them! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, particularly to the guests who I can't thank directly, and to the readers. Hope you enjoyed them._

As Tommy Volker was led away in handcuffs, Jane exhaled slowly, letting all the tension of the last few weeks drain from his body.

Lisbon was safe now. And the child was unharmed.

Lisbon called Cho and Rigsby. They arrived soon after, Cho taking her gun because of the shooting.

As the team strolled back down the main avenue, Jane stopped.

"Cho, over here."

Cho stared at him impassively.

"Look, man, look," Rigsby cut in. "See that?"

A black and white striped animal stared back.

"That's a zebra?"

"Yep"

"A smallish horse with odd decoration. That matters how?"


End file.
